


Hope Is A Fleeting Thing

by angelus2hot



Category: Andromeda (TV)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-29
Updated: 2010-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelus2hot/pseuds/angelus2hot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyr remembers his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope Is A Fleeting Thing

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Hope Is A Fleeting Thing  
>  **Author:**  
>  **Fandom:** Andromeda  
>  **Pairing/Characters:** Tyr Anasazi  
>  **Rating/Category:** PG-13/Gen  
>  **Prompt:** Andromeda, Tyr, back story, where there is life there is hope  
>  **A/N:** written for fest07 at smallfandomfest. A big thank you to colls for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Tyr sat in the darkness, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the sadness to disappear. It looked like he was in for a long wait. Twenty-four hours ago he had watched as his wife was shot down before his eyes. He had also lost his son, all within just a few hours of finding out his existence.

This time it wasn’t a Nietzschean pride responsible for him losing everything, This time it was a group of racial purists that had delivered the almost crushing blow. As much as he blamed the Genites for his loss, he blamed Dylan Hunt more.

Dylan had taught him what it was to hope; he had shown him that sometimes life works out the right way as long as you had the tenacity to go after what you want; as long as you believed. But he should have remembered hope was a fleeting thing and better left to the kludges. The Nietzscheans knew better.

He should have remembered his past.

 

*******

He was Tyr Anasazi of Kodiak Pride, out of Victoria by Barbarossa and he would never surrender.

But that wasn't always the case.

There had been a time when he had nearly given up. When he had almost lost all hope and wanted the sweet release of death. Almost.

The attack had come from out of nowhere. One day his pride was the exalted keepers of the remains of Drago Museveni and suddenly they were attacked by the Drago-Kazov pride. Tyr's pride, his whole family, was all but wiped out of existence.

At barely sixteen years old, Tyr had helplessly watched as his mother was brought down by one of the Dragans. He'd wanted to help her, but she had screamed at him to run and to get away as fast as he could. And as much as he hated to admit it, he'd ran. Apparently he hadn’t been fast enough. There had been nowhere to run, nowhere to hide that the Dragans wouldn't find him.

The decimation of his pride was bad enough. At his age he had thought that losing his pride was the worst thing that could have ever happened to him. But he was wrong. Instead of killing him, the Drago-Kazov had taken him as a slave.

 

On the journey back to the Dragan’s homeworld, Enga’s Redoubt, he had plenty of time to plan his escape. He would wait for the perfect opportunity as they were embarking, knock out his jailer and make his escape. He hadn’t counted on being knocked out. The Nietzschean next to him must have read his plans written on his face and with one punch he had knocked Tyr out. By the time he had regained consciousness, he found himself in some kind of underground holding cell.

Life had began pretty much the same every morning after he had first awakened on the Dragan’s homeworld. For three weeks he was kept in that same holding cell, unable to see the sun much less anything else. He was given the barest amount of food, barely enough to survive. The corner of the small cell was used for a bathroom. No one was allowed to speak to him. He was denied anything that would make him less of an animal. Not that he was interested in anything that the Drago-Kazov Pride had to offer, but to have all of his senses deprived was more than the worst torture for a Nietzschean. Especially for Tyr Anasazi.

Finally one morning, when he was sufficiently weakened by his ordeal, he was brought to stand before the Alpha.

“What is your name, boy?”

Tyr’s dark eyes glared daggers at the Dragan. He was positive the leader already knew who he was. Suddenly, one of the Nietzschean guards kicked the back of his knee. As Tyr fell down, his eyes promised retribution.

The leader cleared his throat. “I don’t like repeating myself, boy. Best you learn that now.”

The guard nearest Tyr raised his fist, his bone blades pointed directly at Tyr’s throat. With a shake of his head the Alpha waited for Tyr to answer.

“My name is Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa.” Tyr spoke through his clenched teeth. He hated giving in, even just the tiniest amount but in order to gain his vengeance he had to live.

“You are wrong, boy. Your name is Slave.” The leader looked at his pride gathered around to watch as the remaining member of the Kodiak Pride was given his due. “I know it’s not an original name or even that good. But after all you are only a slave.” Great guffaws of laughter erupted as he looked down at the young man kneeling before him. “Fitting don’t you think?”

Tyr bit his lip to keep from telling the alpha and the whole pride exactly what he did think. That wouldn’t help him in any way.

“That’s a good boy. Look at you. You’re already learning the proper way a slave is supposed to act before his betters. Now I just have to figure out something to do with you.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “There’s already enough kludges to take care of all of my pride’s needs except for one.” He waited patiently for his words to sink in before he continued. “Most of my men, the ones that don’t have wives, refuse to lay with human women. And who could blame them? The kludges are just so inferior. Although, I doubt that they would have the same problem with you. After all you have a fine lineage, well before your line was destroyed. And what else would you be good for?” The leader paused once again before he answered his own question. “Nothing. So it’s settled then. Who here would be interested in having this Nietzschean, albeit an inferior one, as a sex slave?”

“Dibs.”

Tyr’s blood ran cold as the Nietzschean guard, the same one that had threatened him with his bone blades spoke up. _This couldn’t be happening!_ He would never give in. The guard would have to kill him before he ever warmed his bed in anyway.

The alpha grinned as he watched Tyr try to stop the trembling in his sixteen-year-old body.

At the smug grin on the leader’s face, his control snapped and Tyr was unable to stop himself from yelling. “I will never surrender! I will kill him, and anyone else who tries to come near me the first chance that I get!”

“I believe that he means it.” The leader looked at the guard who had claimed Tyr. “I’m unwilling to risk any of my men to test just how tenacious you are.” He sat up straighter, his chest thrust out in typical alpha form. “Fine. Have him sent to Xochital. The rest of his life spent working in the diamond mines just might make him wish he had chosen differently.”

Tyr was positive that no matter how much he would suffer through his time spent in the diamond mines he would never wish he had chosen differently.

 

******

Rommie’s voice coming in through the comm shook him out of his memories.

“Yes?” His voice was husky with suppressed emotion.

“Dylan needs you on the command deck.” The ship’s avatar didn’t even wait for his answer before disconnecting.

As Tyr left the room he realized that maybe Dylan was right after all. Not really about hope, because he still felt that hope was a human emotion, but about having the determination to go after what he wanted. Because Tyr knew that one day, no matter how long it took, he would get his retribution. Retribution not only against the Drago-Kazov Pride but all of the Nietzschean prides that had failed to help protect the Kodiak Pride.


End file.
